


No Reset

by SuperstarMorgan



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Confessions, Crying, Cussing, Death, Depression, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Anxiety, Love Confessions, M/M, Reader Death, Reader-Insert, Sad, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 07:44:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperstarMorgan/pseuds/SuperstarMorgan
Summary: The Doctor learns about your love for him and finds that you’ll always be around, even after your tragic death.IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ:After posting this story, it was made public that the lead singer of Brand New, the band that sings the song featured in this fic, committed sex crimes against multiple teenage girls. I no longer support this band or their work. I will not be editing this specific posting of the story, but a new version with a different song will be released in the near future. It will be exactly the same story, just with a new song and title. Thank you for reading.





	No Reset

**Author's Note:**

> This story is on my Tumblr if you would like to read there:  
> https://madboxwithagirl.tumblr.com/post/164732666819/no-reset
> 
> This is based off of the interlude in the song “Out of Mana” by Brand New. I would highly suggest listening to it!
> 
> https://youtu.be/kuta3PDr-4E?t=3m46s
> 
> Warnings: Heavy Angst. Blood. Major Character Death. Cursing. Depression.
> 
> Enjoy!

Humans are mortal creatures, this is very well known. With such short lifespans and so many outside forces that can easily shorten them more, humans are not the most resilient of beings. And yet, they survive years upon years of torment from both mind and body. Some manage to heal from what should have been fatal wounds or diseases. Miracles, they are called.

 

The Doctor saw a lot in humans. While they may not be the strongest of species, they’re quite mysterious at times, though many are easy to figure out. A glance into their eyes can reveal their entire souls to their viewers. A quick look and he can see their pain, happiness, confusion, and every other feeling under their rather small sun. 

 

Yet somehow, you managed to keep your most intimate of feelings held under lock and key. Now, this rather smart alien knew full and well that you were hiding things from him, but he could never find a way to see into your soul. You were a defensive human, he knew, but he always thought that perhaps he could coax you out of your shell. He wanted to know every little thing about you from your favorite color, to your saddest memory, to your worst fear. 

 

Despite knowing that so much of you was inaccessible, he managed to fall in love with you. He loved yet hated the mystery surrounding you, wanting nothing more than to crack open the locks on your heart and soul and loot every little thing that they held. But he would never dare to try to force open your hidden treasures. He needed you to unlock them on your own terms. Oh, how he tried to get you to show him every part of your mystery. He would pour out his hearts to you, lament to you his sorrows, silently beg you to maybe, just _maybe_ , give him a story of your own past to make him feel less alone and perhaps relate to someone else. 

 

But, alas, you would never allow yourself to open up to him. This impossible man didn’t need to know the struggles of a minuscule human. His life had been full of sorrows and demons that you could never fathom trying to fight. He had lost his entire species, taken by his own hand from a decision that none, not even the most powerful of gods, should ever have to make. What were your demons compared to that? No, you didn’t need him to feel sorry for you. 

 

You sealed up your being, bound it in rope and chains. You locked yourself up nice and tight and let the key fall into your ocean of despair. You knew that this alien-man would be your downfall if you didn’t block off your emotions from him. Now, you would allow yourself to laugh along with him when he made a rather Doctor-like error and you would allow yourself to hold him close as he offered you his broken hearts to mend. You would offer up the best of yourself, the kindness and thoughtfulness that your heart would allow. 

 

But in your struggle to keep your emotions in their prison, one managed to escape your watchful eye: adoration. You somehow had let yourself grow attached to the Time Lord, but not just as an acquaintance or even a best friend, but full blown head-over-heels in love. Night after night you scolded yourself for letting yourself fall for the perfectly flawed being who took you away from your original suffering, only to bring on more by just being so wonderful. You knew that anything intimate between the almost-immortal man would never last, so you never said a word to him.

 

And so you continued on, keeping a tight grip on your secrets for years, fighting off the rust and the fire from your bounds. But the rope was burning and the rust was poisoning. You were losing an uphill battle and all you wanted was to open yourself up and let everything spill out onto the TARDIS floor so the Doctor could sort through the mess and perhaps find something he liked. You wanted to stop fighting, finally give your treasures up, and maybe retire away somewhere far away from your love so you could relax once again.

 

The bottled up thoughts started to become too much for you. You had to get something, anything, out in any way possible. You knew you couldn’t tell the Doctor of your sin, no matter how much you desired to do so. You got yourself a journal from the library, happy that it was yet to be stained with the ink of a flowing thought. Starting off slowly, you settled with just a simple sentence in your most wonderful of handwriting.

 

_“I’m in love with the Doctor.”_

___

 

It was supposed to be a simple trip to your hometown.

 

It was supposed to be a quick visit, that was all.

 

It wasn’t supposed to have any deadly aliens looking for the Doctor.

 

_It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

 

Humans are mortal creatures, he knew. Of _course_ he knew that. But he wasn’t prepared to face that reality again so soon. And he certainly wasn’t prepared to face that reality with _you._

 

His clothing was stained with your life force from head to toe. Not a single article was left untouched, all of it drenched in the blood of his beloved. The Doctor had held you in your final moments, hysterical and oh so _terrified._ He knew that you were dying, that there was nothing that he could do to fix you. There was _so_ _much blood_ , from each deep wound to what was pouring out of your mouth. It was so much more than he really realized that a human could hold. Not knowing what to say, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. He confessed his sin to you, kissing your forehead roughly, feeling your cooling body. 

 

And as you began to fade away, you let your rope and chains go slack. You let him see into your soul. You stared up at him, taking in every little detail for what you knew would be the final time while he stared deeply into your glossy eyes. He let out a sob as he saw the pure _fear_ in your eyes, something that he had never been granted to see before. You wished that you could tell him that you loved him too, that you wished you had told him sooner, that you had told him everything, but you couldn’t. You were too weak and the blood pooling from your mouth wouldn’t have allowed you to anyway. As the Doctor began to repeat his confession, you slipped into your everlasting sleep. The last thing you saw were his gorgeous but incredibly sad, brown eyes. You let your own orbs close and you let yourself slip away.

 

Everything the Doctor did after that was a blur. He remembered finishing off your killers and he remembered taking your body to your family. He didn’t remember ever making it back to the TARDIS, or the machine’s broken whirls upon realizing that you were gone. He didn’t know how long he was curled up on the ship’s floor, begging whatever god that was out there to bring you back to him. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten or had a sip of water. All he knew was that you were gone forever and that he’d never get to see you again.

 

Eventually, the broken man rose from his spot on the cold, metal flooring and he stumbled his way through the TARDIS. He needed to shower. He needed to get your blood off of his body. He needed to get rid of the smell of your death. A door appeared at the end of the hallway and he made his way into the shower that his ship had kindly found for him. He stripped of everything and stepped into the shower, turning the hot water on. His skin became red from the scalding water, but he didn’t notice. All he could register was that your blood was all over his body. It had soaked through to his skin, staining him. And so he scrubbed and he scrubbed and he scrubbed but _your blood wouldn’t come off._ He cried out and scrubbed harder and harder until his own blood found its way to the surface. At this, he quit his attempts and leaned back against the shower wall, defeated. Your blood would never leave his hands. 

 

The TARDIS had taken the bloody clothing and disposed of them before the Doctor finally got out of the shower. She had replaced them with soft and clean sleepwear, for which the Time Lord was grateful. He slowly donned them and left the bathroom, nearly sobbing when he saw where he was. The TARDIS had lead him to your room. Your room was decorated from items found in the ship and gifts that the Doctor had given you on various trips. It was clean and organized, all of your valuables on display throughout the space. 

 

_And it still smelled like you._

 

The Doctor made his way to your bed and wrapped himself up in your blankets, wanting to take in your scent once more. It was such a lovely change from the blood that he had known for who knows how long. He held one of your pillows close to him, imagining that it was you. He used to love to cuddle with you whenever he was feeling particularly down. You would hold onto him tightly and hum your favorite songs, doing what you could to sooth him. How he wished that he could hear you hum into his ear one final time.

 

He eventually fell into a restless sleep, seeing images of you being attacked and hurt by the aliens over and over again. He never able to stop your death. He awoke a few hours later covered in sweat, fresh tears falling onto the pillow. He buried his face into the pillow and cried, letting all his emotions out. He needed you more than ever. How was he going to live without you? You were his most valuable treasure and you had been stolen from him. 

 

The Doctor soon sat up and looked around your room, wanting to soak up everything he could about you. Even though you were long gone, he hoped that maybe he could learn more about you from your possessions, maybe finding out more about your values from them. He hoped that it might sooth him, even if only for a moment. Taking a deep and shaky breath, he untangled himself from the blankets and got up, immediately missing the strong scent from the fabrics. 

 

To the Doctor’s dismay, nothing immediately seemed to be gained from any of your items. All that was there were miscellaneous TARDIS items, the many gifts he had given you, and some pretty little souvenirs from tourist traps in foreign places (though you never seemed to care, they were all new and different to you). However, upon further inspection, he saw that his presents were the most cared for and that they were the most proudly displayed. Each item was placed methodically, in places that you would be around most. They were on your dresser, your desk, your nightstand. Each was covered in far less dust than the souvenirs (how long had it really been since you passed?) and they all looked brand new. 

 

His tired eyes locked onto one particular item on your desk. He picked up an old and worn journal that he recognized as a gift to him from a journey long passed. A bit confused as to why it was in your room, he slowly opened it, not entirely sure what to expect. As he read the first line of your familiar handwriting, he gasped and cried out.

 

_“I’m in love with the Doctor.”_

 

His entire form began to shake and fresh tears ran from his eyes. You _loved him._ You had committed the same sin as he had and fallen in love with a creature that you shouldn’t have. He sat himself back down onto the bed and tried to steady his breathing, overjoyed that you had felt the same but devastated that it was never meant to be. God, he knew that he shouldn’t read more, for it was your own personal thoughts that had bled onto the pages, but he simply couldn’t contain himself. Taking a few deep breaths and wiping his eyes, he continued to read your secret thoughts.

 

The book was filled with memories from your past that you had been too scared to reveal to him. His hearts cracked at everything you had had to suffer through throughout the years prior to arriving on the TARDIS. Why hadn’t you told him? Why did he have to find out through a journal after your life had been snatched from you? The Time Lord soon left behind the writings of your past life and found himself reading of life on the ship and your new form of suffering.

 

_“Damn the Doctor. Why did he have to find me? Why did I have to find him? Why couldn’t we have just not met? I would have continued to live my boring old life, yeah, but I wouldn’t have been doomed to be in love with an impossible man with an impossible machine doing impossible things. I could just be working in a cubical or sitting at a front desk and greeting people each day. Nothing glamorous, but normal. No gorgeous alien to distract me each day and make me want to commit some weird inter-planet bestiality acts._

 

_I don’t understand how I let myself fall in love with this man, but I did, and I regret it each and every moment of my life. I never wanted to open up to anyone ever again, but this stupid man comes in and tries to get me to spill my guts to him. And I really fucking want to. But my past and my problems are nothing compared to his. He’s suffered more than any human has. He’s the last of his kind, doomed to travel the universe alone. Every now and again, a new person shows up and spends a little time with him, but they all leave in the end, he’s said. How does he go day after day knowing this? Knowing that he’s going to live for centuries more and lose everyone that he befriends? He is a strong man, the strongest I’ve ever met._

 

_He told me of Rose, the last person to posses his hearts, and everything that had happened. As he cried and revealed the terrible events, I couldn’t help but feel jealous. It was selfish of me, really, but I wished that he would feel the same level of attachment to me. I could never tell him that, of course. I heard of Martha. He doesn’t need to know that another human is in love with him._

 

_It’s a terrible fate to be in love with the Doctor it seems. I hate that I’m doomed to suffer the same fate. I thought that leaving that old life behind would help me forget, or at least feel more okay with, the pain that everything had caused. What I didn’t expect was to find a new pain with the madman. Maybe one day I’ll tell him so I can stop hiding from it. It’s unlikely, though.”_

 

The Doctor let out a bitter laugh, agreeing with your words. Loving him was a terrible fate, a curse even. Anyone who loves him finds nothing but suffering and, in turn, hurts him. He grit his teeth and let out a crying howl, angry with himself for being so selfish. You thought yourself as selfish for wanting his love, but there was no shame in that. No, _he_ was the selfish one for taking so many away with him and causing them pain, whether he meant to or not. Every companion gets hurt in some way and it was all his fault. He brought pain to so many simply because he didn’t want to be lonely. He _deserved_ to be alone. He wasn’t some savior or messiah, but a monster, a beast that brought destruction everywhere he went.

 

But yet, you had felt sorry for him. You put his problems over yours, caring for him and loving him even after finding out what he had done to Gallifrey. You comforted him, made him feel as if he was important. You made him feel like he deserved to be happy. But that was who you were. You saw who he was when you were traveling, when you encountered a foe or someone who needed help. You saw how he tried to fix everything, even if it wasn’t possible or if he would get hurt in the process. He was a selfless man, and hearing of his atrocities didn’t change your mind on that. You had risked your life for him time and time again, knowing that he deserved to live and eventually find happiness more than anyone else. You loved him.

 

The more he read, the more sorrowful he became, but he simply couldn’t stop. He needed to know everything about you. He had longed to know what you had kept hidden away from him, but he had wanted you to tell him on your own accord, finally venting to him each and every little detail about your life. He wanted to hold you and comfort you like you had for him. He wanted you to feel loved and protected. But fate would never allow him that. Instead, he was here in your abandoned room, invading your privacy. He truly was a selfish man. 

 

Soon, he reached the final entries. Knowing that this would be the last of you that he would ever take in, he read through slowly.

 

_“We’re going to visit my hometown today. So many terrible memories have been made there, but I wanted to visit the old place where I used to hide away when things were bad. Maybe that will help me clear my mind a bit. But then again, maybe I’m getting too hopeful. After all, that was where I found the TARDIS. I will never forget seeing that wonderful, blue box, meeting the strange man with the wild hair and overabundance of clothing (seriously, who needs that much outerwear?), and wondering who the hell he was. I never imagined that my life was going to change so suddenly and so dramatically._

 

_The Doctor has truly been kind to me in the time that I’ve been here. He’s always willing to take me anywhere I want to go, excited to see the places I find the most fascinating. I know it’s really him trying to figure out more about me since I won’t open up to him, and I commend him for being creative in his ways. He’s a brilliant man, but not even he can see into my soul. But I want to tell him. It’s starting to become too much for me to bare. I want to finally get everything off my chest and expose my thoughts and feelings to him. I can’t handle it anymore. I have to tell him._

 

_When we get to my special place, the place where we met, I will tell him it all. If it goes badly, which it most likely will, I will be able to stay there on Earth. No need to go back into the TARDIS and say my goodbyes. I can simply walk away and try to continue_ _at home_ _on Earth. But if by some miracle he feels the same and wants me to continue traveling with him, I will continue to do so. I can only hope for the best.”_

 

 

 

_“It’s been a few hours since the last entry and we haven’t left yet. The Doctor isn’t in the console room and I can’t find him anywhere. I assume that he’s in a room that I can’t find or he’s stepped out for a bit. I took that time alone to examine the console of the TARDIS. This box is truly an impossible machine. She’s a living being and has her own thoughts and emotions. She’s been just as kind as the Doctor, taking me to places that even I didn’t know that I wanted to go to. She seems to see more into my soul than the Doctor. I’ll bet anything that she can read minds._

 

_Haha, as soon as I wrote that, she started to play a song that’s been stuck in my head. I suppose that proves my suspicions. I only hope that she doesn’t tell the Doctor any of my secrets. Though, if it’s been this long already with nothing coming out, I guess I’m safe. I’m hopeful that I won’t have to leave this wonderful place that I’ve learned to call my home. I don’t know how I’m going to survive if I go. I always thought that I’d live out the rest of my life here. I don’t want to go.”_

 

 

 

_“The TARDIS is continuing to play the song, over and over again. Why is she doing this? Does she want me to do something? I’m a bit lost. I think I’m going to investigate some before we head off. This blasted machine may seem to like me, but she sure makes things tough on me at times. It’s well worth it though. And considering how this very well may be the last time here, I should take in all I can. Please, don’t let this be it.”_

 

 

The Doctor suddenly heard the soft sound of wind chimes throughout the room, but saw no such things. Instead, he saw an image of a lost soul appear faintly in the room. And then he heard a soft, sad voice began to sing to a soft guitar strum.

 

_“I have to go_

_I want to say I'm in love with you_

_And I'm more than the skin of my teeth_

_I digress_

_I am a mess, I'm in love with you_

_I will go without water or sleep_

_I'm a ghost_

_I can't say I know that I'm even here_

_Or is this some eternal test_

_Hold me close_

_I'll never know if it's more or less_

_No reset_

 

 

_I love you, Doctor.”_

 

The song ended as you spoke your most well guarded secret, your voice fading away with the declaration that the Doctor had longed to hear you say. The TARDIS must have played your song over and over until you had given in and sang along. Your eyes were closed in the recording as you slowly danced to the somber tune. It looked as if you were unaware that you were being filmed. The machine had done it as if she knew that something was going to go wrong, that you would never return. 

Silent tears ran down the Doctor’s face, his eyes never leaving your form. His ship had given you back to him. She had led him to your book of secrets so he could finally solve your mysteries, so he would know that you returned his feelings. She had recorded your being so he would always have a view of you unbroken, alive, and healthy. She taped your voice so that the Doctor would never forget what you had sounded like. But the most wonderful thing that she had done was catch your lost voice saying out loud that you loved him.

 

With a broken smile, your Doctor closed the journal and held it tightly to his chest. Looking up at your still image, he whispered out his greatest curse one final time.

 

_“_ I love you too, my Treasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any and all feedback would be highly appreciated!


End file.
